


Nocturne

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Drabble, I'm Sorry, Inanimate Object Porn, Melodrama, Other, Purple Prose, sewing a dildo onto a puppet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-09
Updated: 2012-10-09
Packaged: 2017-11-15 22:41:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/532573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He was the conductor of his own symphony of shame. The needle lay in his palm.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nocturne

In the dark twilight of his shame, a man carefully, painstakingly stitched a dildo to an old friend. He had not quite yet come to terms with the brutality of his passion, his love, the all consuming desire that burned at his heart.

Sweat beaded around his forehead like a crown, evaporating and covering his gaudy sunglasses in a fine mist. As he removed them to wipe the steam from the glass, his eyes met an unnerving glassy blue.

Horror and disgust arced across his face, as he took in all that he had done. The child's cap, carelessly thrown to the ground. A gold chain, haphazardly slung below one orange plush arm. Vibrant blue eyes that gazed and judged and loved and wanted, if only he had had self-restraint. The dildo in his left hand, the needle in the other.

How could he deface his love so? Stitches torn asunder by base lust and primal desire, the doll looked more like a grotesque corpse than the bright-eyes lover he had been just minutes before.

How could he have done this? The dildo in his hand, the hole rent in his plush rump, the semen and stuffing that flowed and gushed like a jugular.

He had only wanted to return the favor.

Tears flowed freely from his orange eyes, spilling onto his beloved's shirt. "Oh, my love, my life, my heart, how can I ever make this up to you?" he wanted to cry to the heavens. He would commit seppuku upon the Texan rooftops for his love. Anything it took, to make up his wrong.

But instead, all he whispered was, "Cal," and the only steel that parted flesh was the needle into his thumb as he carefully stitched up his patchwork lover.

 

Dave woke up early the next morning, and wandered into the living room of his bro's apartment to play some sweet video games.

He was greeted by his Bro's naked form, lying prone on the futon, his arms encircled around that fucking creepy as fuck puppet. Was... Was that a fucking dildo on the ground by the sewing kit? Oh

Oh god. Not again.

==>Dave: Flip the fuck out.

**Author's Note:**

> jesus


End file.
